waltzing off
on a cloud of reverb
crop dusting through summer
the grass sways whispers to our skin
secrets rise like ghosts, and prism in sun
hovering like mist over country morning pond
rapture is the key we tossed into the murky middle
waltzing off
on a cloud of reverb
crop dusting through summer
the grass sways whispers to our skin
secrets rise like ghosts, and prism in sun
hovering like mist over country morning pond
rapture is the key we tossed into the murky middle
I love the mist over ponds in the morning! I hope you are feeling better my friend!